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SAMMY 


A Story 

of the Mountain People 


REV. JOHN E. COX 


SECOND EDITION 

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


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SANG 

SAMMY 


A Story 

of the Mountain People 

(Copyright applied for.) 


By REV. JOHN E. COX 




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PRESS OF THE ENTERPRISE. 
PROVIDENCE, KY. 


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Two Copies Received 


THE LIBRARY OF 


CONGRESS, 



AUG iO 1903 



/'■)_/«; 0 3 
LASS a. XXe. No. 


Copyright Entry 


COPY B. 


DEDICATED 


To my dearest friend and brother in the 
Gospel, Rev. E. M. McVey, (“Bro. Eb”) East- 
bank, W. Va. ; 

To all my old neighbors and co-workers in 
the Great Kanawha Valley; 

To my old friends, “the mountain people” 
— the biggest hearted, most hospitable, and 
truly sociable people that ever lived — this little 
volume is respectfully dedicated. 


THE AUTHOR, 


A STATEMENT. 

This little story was suggested by a conver- 
sation of my family, and I thought to”group 
in a little bit of fiction as many old friends as 
possible, and thus help keep their memory 
green in the minds of my children. But the 
story is true to life ; the characters are nearly 
all real ones ; only a few fictitious names have 
been used; “Bro. Eb” is still preaching the 
gospel; “Bob Brown” represents a real char- 
acter ; “Sounder” was an old friend of my fam- 
ily; the scenes, the locations, the caves are 
real — even the cave-tomb of a woman is there. 
Then, too, I wished to paint a word picture of 
one of those old fashioned revival and old- 
time child conversions, for the benefit of my 
own children, and other children — such 
meetings as I often participated in — such 
meetings as I am old fashioned enough to still 
believe in. Many object to the way the story 
ends, insisting that our little hero ought to 
have lived and become a great preacher; we 
have the same objections but could never 
satisfactorily change the story. However, 
there can be no better preaching than the life, 
conversion and triumphant death of our little 
Sang Sammy. May these preach successfully 
to every child-reader, is my prayer. 

John E. Cox. 

Providence, Ky. 

August 1st, 1903. 


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“SANG SAMMY.” 


CHAPTER I. 

“SANG SAMMY”— HIS PARENTS— HIS HOME. 

SAMMY BROWN was his real name, but 
to the mountain people he was known only as 
“Sang Sammy.” 

“Sammy what?” was a question he was 
often asked when down at the “grist mill” 
or the “sang store” which were located on the 
creek a few miles distant from Sammy’s home. 

“Nothin’ but jist Sang Sammy,” was the 
little boy’s invariable answer. 

The ginseng root — called “sang” by the 
natives — is a wild herb of the mountain coun- 
try. Though it has been gathered every year 
since the country was first inhabited, it is still 
found in considerable quantities in the out-of- 
the-way nooks and coves of the West Virginia 
mountains. It is a very valuable article of 


10 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

commerce, and is almost the sole dependence 
of many mountain families for the payment of 
store accounts. The root, when dried, is ex- 
ported to China, where, according to some 
writers, it is used as a medicine, while others 
assert that it is burned as incense to idols. 
However that may be, the Chinese purchase all 
the ginseng root marketed in this country. It 
has been worth its weight in gold, and even 
now sells for several dollars a pound. 

“Sang diggers” roam the mountains, “sang 
hook” in hand, with which to dig the roots 
from the earth, and with a “sang bag” slung 
over their shoulders in which to “tote” the 
precious roots. Often whole families leave 
humble homes and wander for days in their 
search of sang, camping of nights, gypsy 
fashion. 

Sang Sammy — the hero of our story — had 
accompanied his parents on sangin’ expedi- 
tions ever since he could remember. It was 
doubtless to this fact that he was indebted for 
his nick-name. 

Sammy was a strong, rugged, active boy, 
just in his “teens,” and never happier than 
when hunting sang. With his little sang hook 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 11 

in hand, he would run here and there along the 
mountain ridges, or clamber among the rocks 
and cliffs in search of some lucky cove, where 
the five-pronged plant might be found in abund- 
ance. And when his search would be success- 
ful, his sturdy little arm would strike the hook 
deep into the ground and bring 'the coveted 
roots to the surface, to 'be quickly seized and 
placed in the sang bag. 

Since Sammy had gotten to be a “little 
man*’ his mother often permitted him to go 



gangin' alone — or with only old Sounder, the 
big, lank, ugly hound, for company. But 


12 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

Sammy wanted no better company, for he fully 
believed that Sounder was the best and hand- 
somest dog in the world. Sounder’s voice was 
as harsh as a fog horn ; but to Sammy’s ears 
it was the sweetest of music. The great, dark, 
gloomy mountains had no terrors for the brave 
lad if only his four-footed friend was with 
him. Though here was the home of “b’ars” 
“painters,” wild cats and other “varmints,” 
he depended on Sounder to keep them at a dis- 
tance, while he gave his undivided attention to 
the search for sang. And when unusually suc- 
cessful and the little sand bag would be filled, 
with exuberant spirits he would bound along 
the zigzag mountain paths homeward so fast 
that old Sounder’s tongue would hang from his 
massive jaws, so heated would he be in an effort 
to keep pace with his young master. As Sammy 
would pour the result of his day’s search in his 
mother’s lap, and hear her commendations, he 
would be one of the happiest boys in the world. 

Having learned so much about Sang Sam- 
my, let us get somewhat acquainted with his 
parents, his home and its surroundings. 

Bob Brown, Sammy’s father, was a native 
of the locality where he lived. He was one of 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 13 

those unfortunate individuals who was “born 
tired,” and so lacked the energy necessary to 
get out in the world, or to become a very 
progressive or prosperous member of society 
in his own little locality. Only once did he 
manage to get far away from home, and that 
was during the “wah” when he joined Jenkins’ 
Reckless Riders. Perhaps it was because of the 
extra amount of exercise he was compelled to 
take while a Confederate cavalryman, that he 
felt justified in taking life ever afterward just 
as easily as possible. 

At the close of the “wah” he found himself 
on the other side of the mountains in the beau- 
tiful Shenendoah valley, in the old state of 
Virginia. There he remained a few months 
before returning to his old home in the new 
state, west of the mountains. But when he 
did return, a young wife “accompanied him. 

Opportunities were numerous in the new 
state for advancement. Developement was 
the order of the day. The vast forests required 
an army of men to bring the valuable timber 
to the markets. The valleys were alive with 
coal mining industries. But Bob Brown had 
no desire to take part in these busy scenes of 


14 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 



W M,' 

Bob Brown. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


15 


life. “Sangin” was the height of his ambi- 
tion. His “tired feeling’” discouraged any 
thought of attempting hard work of any kind. 
And since Sammy had grown large enough to 
dig sang, the old man had even given up “tot- 
ing” the “sang hook.” 

The only energy he ever displayed was 
when hunting “varmints.” With his long, 
old-fashioned rifle on his shoulder, surrounded 
by his pack of hounds, he would roam the 
mountains for hours at a time. The weather 
was never too hot or too cold, and he was 
never so tired as to discouraged him from 
going down to the sang store to attend a po- 
litical “speakin’ ” and to swig “moonshine” 
whisky. 

With the sang that Sammy gathered, the 
the necessaries of life — groceries, shoes, to- 
bacco, etc , were purchased down at the sang 
store. Mrs. Brown carded, spun and wove 
the wool into cloth from which she made the 
garments the family wore. A “grist of co’n” 
every two weeks, “toted” by the old horse to 
the watermill on the creek, insured plenty of 
“pone” bread; and a few hogs of the razor- 
back, elm-peeler, chestnut-splitter, craw-fish 


16 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

hunting breed, furnished the table with meat, 
with an occasional dish of wild game, the 
product of Bob Brown’s hunting expeditions. 

Such was “Sang Sammy’s” father. 

Sammy’s mother was worth a dozen of his 
father. She had been better raised, had some 
education, and her poor excuse for a home 
showed that she was an industrious, orderly 
and neat housekeeper. She had never been sat- 
isfied with her lot in life since her marriage, 
but had made the best of it. She had often 
tried to persuade her husband to move across 
the mountains to her old home, but her plead- 
ings were in vain. Then she urged him to 
move down into the great Kanawha valley, 
where they would have better opportunities, 
but to this he would invariably answer : 

“Thar’s no sang thar, nor varmints to hunt, 
an’ they don’t ’low a feller to keep houns. An’ 
th’all are stuck-up folks thar, an’ calls we’uns 
from the mountains ; yarn gallus fellers.’ ” 

Then Mrs. Brown would urge him to move 
to the “Greenbrier country,” where there 
were schools and churches. But Bob Brown 
was more opposed to this suggestion than to 
the others. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 17 

“Th’all is Scotch-Irish up tliar, an’ is stuck- 
up wusser nor the valley folks, or ol’ Virginney 
people. If a feller ain’t a Presbyterian with 
edication an’ fine close, he ain’t counted any- 
thin’! Th’ ol’ hut is good nuff for we’uns.” 

Thus Bob Brown would talk, and the poor 
woman had to be resigned to her lot. Her one 
comfort in life was Sammy. No mother ever 
had a better child. And no child ever had a 
better mother. This mother and child were 
much alike in natural gifts and dispositions. 
Both were sweet singers. The mountain peo- 
ple said there were no such singers in all that 
portion of the country — and the mountain peo- 
ple were all good singers. At the “meetin’s” 
and the Sunday-school, which were held in the 
school house located on the next creek beyond 
the ridge, they always led the singing. And 
hardly a day closed that they did not sit on the 
door-step, side by side, like two chums, with 
the hymn-book, which they had received as a 
present from “Bro. Eb,” the missionary, in 
hand, and sing the dear old church hymns. 

What caused Mrs. Brown much trouble, was 
the fact of Sammy’s limited education. True, 
there was a three or four months’ term of 


18 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

school over on the next creek, every year, but 
Bob Brown positively refused to permit Sammy 
to attend. 

“Skules is no good no how/’ he would growl ; 
“fo-de-wah, we’uns had no skules an’ chillen 
these days is no bettah than thar dads. Book 
lamin’ don’t help a feller to dig sang or kill 
varmints.” 

And that would end all talk about Sammy’s 
going to school. But the devoted mother taught 
him, as best she could, to road and write. And 
recently she had received much help and en- 
couragement from an unexpected source : 

Some months before the time at which our 
story begins, “Bro. Eb,” a devoted missionary, 
had visited the neighborhood, held religious 
services at the school house and visited from 
house to house, talking about a Sunday school. 
One of the first to second his efforts was Mrs. 
Brown. She said it was the very thing to do. 
When a girl in the old state she was a member 
of the church and a faithful Sunday school 
worker. She and Sammy were among the first 
scholars to be enrolled. Not only was the good 
woman glad on her own account, but for Sam- 
my’s sake she was especially pleased. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 19 

True enough, Bob Brown objected to the Sun- 
day school and to his folks attending : u We’uns 
who is fo-de-wali baptis’ don’t have no use for 
Sunday skules no how. They is man’s doins’ 
and not de Lo'ds — same as payin’ de preacher 
an’ givin’ to mishuns.” 

But when it came to religion and church 
affairs Mrs. Brown had a mind and will of her 
own, and she let it be positively known that 
she and Sammy would attend Sunday school. 
And attend they did, regularly. Mrs. Brown’s 
early training prepared her to occupy a useful 
place in the school and her class was always a 
crowded one. To her intense delight she could 
soon discover the great benefit of the school to 
Sammy. He was not only learning the Bible 
and about religion, but he rapidly improved in 
his singing, reading and writing. And so, not- 
withstanding there was a mountain range to 
cross on foot, and her husband’s u fo-de-wah 
baptis’ ” objections in the way, Mrs. Brown and 
Sammy w r ere among the most faithful attend- 
ants at the Union Sunday school. 

So much being revealed in regard to the 
Brown family, it remains to describe some- 
thing of the Brown home : 


20 “SANG SAMMY”' — A STORY 

The Brown residence was a typical moun- 
tain “sang-digger’s” cabin. It was made of 
unhewed logs, or poles rather, with only one 
room. The spaces between the logs were 
“chinked” with small billets of wood and 
“daubed” with yellow clay mud. The fire- 
place was made of big, flat rocks and mud, and 
the chimney of sticks and more mud. The 
roof was made of rough clapboards. The one 
door and window-shutter, with the furniture, 
were made of “whip-sawed” lumber. There 
was no ceiling. In the side of the hut designed 
for the “front” was the door, and at the left 
of the fire-place a square hole answered very well 
for a window. The house-furnishings — the big 
bed-stead, the trundle bed, a table, some 
benches, a loom and a big spinning wheel — 
were all home-made. There was no stove. 
“Them new-fangled things is only good to burn 
a feller’s cabin,” is what Bob Brown thought 
of cooking stoves. All of the cooking was done 
at the big fire-place. There was a dutch oven, 
a pot, skillet, a frying pan, a coffee boiler, 
some tin pans and cups, a few cracked dishes, 
some broken forks and four well-worn knives — 
“big butch, little butch, cob-handle and old 
blade” — Sammy called them. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


21 



Sammy’s Home. 




22 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

The only wall ornaments were the cooking 
utensils, which hung from pegs, and the long 
squirrel rifle, which reposed on the deer horns 
over the door. 

In “front” of the house there was a little 
“yard” enclosed by a pole fence, with a “low 
gap” opposite the door, that grown-up people 
could step over, but which Sammy took es- 
pecial delight in vaulting over many times 
every day. At the side of the door was a bench 
on which sat the water “pail,” while a large 
gourd, with big, crooked handle, hung from a 
peg in the wall. Water was usually procura- 
ble from the “dripping spring” among the rocks 
near by, but sometimes, in times of drouth, 
Sammy had to “tote” the water from the creek 
which meandered through the little valley be- 
low the cabin. 

Just back of the house a short distance 
was the stable — a “brush arbor” — where the old 
horse sheltered himself as best he could from 
sun and storm. 

Down in the valley, fronting the house, just 
to the left of the path, was the “co’n patch,” 
also enclosed with poles and brush. Here the 
“craps” were “tended” by Mrs. Brown and 
Sammy. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 23 

Such was Sang Sammy’s home. Not an 
inviting or attractive one in many respects. 
But to Sammy it was a home, and he was as 
happy and contented as many boys who live in 
fine houses and have all that their heart’s de- 
sire. In fact, with mother and Sounder there, 
Sammy could not see how there could be any 
improvement in his situation in life. 

But Sammy’s home, like many a rude paint- 
ing, had a beautiful setting. It was truly a 
mountain home. The cabin nestled against 
the mountain side in a little “cove,” distant a 
few rods from the valley. It was elevated suffi- 
ciently to give a good view of the valley to the 
left, with the splashing and cluttering “creek” 
winding through it. The view of the valley to 
the right was hidden by a rocky point. Be- 
yond the narrow valley there rose a mountain 
ridge, along the top of which there was a 
“rocky face,” or perpendicular cliff, many feet 
high. Back of the cabin was a ridge corres- 
ponding to the one beyond the valley. Both 
of these mountain spurs were covered with 
dense, dark forests, with great rocks and crags 
peeping out here and there above the tree tops. 
Just opposite the door of the cabin at the foot 


24 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

of the 4 ‘rocky face” cliffs was, plainly visible, 
the black mouth of a great cavern. 

Not another house was to be seen, the isola- 
tion of the Brown home suggesting the thought 
of a ship at sea. No wonder that Sammy, who 
was a true mountain boy, was in love with his 
heme and its wild, romantic surroundings. 

Sammy’s knowledge of the world was lim- 
ited, indeed. He was acquainted with every 
mountain side for miles around, and with every 
“cove” — the likeliest places to find “sang.” 
He had watched all of the fox dens in the local- 
ity of his home with no other company than 
Sounder. He knew how to pass quietly around 
all of the “bar wallers.” The horse chestnuts 
on top of the “rocky face” cliffs were old 
friends, while he had made straight paths to 
any number of mulberry trees. And he fully 
believed that he could, with closed eyes, follow 
the path down to the “grist mill” and “sang 
store,” or travel the zigzag path across the 
mountain to the school house. 

But his acquaintance with the outside world 
was limited. Once or twice, while hunting 
“sang” he had wandered off along the moun- 
tain ridges until he stood on the cliffs border- 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 25 

ing the great Kanawha river, and gazed in won- 
der down into the valley at the towns, railroads, 
steamboats, and at the blazing fires and clouds 
of smoke arising from the long lines of coke 
ovens. But these strange scenes had no at- 
tractions for Sammy, and he returned to his 
home more in love with the great, dark, silent 
mountains than ever before. Often from the 
top of the high spur back of the cabin had his 
mother pointed out to him, when the weather 
was clear, away off towards the east, a deep 
blue ridge, like the rim of a dark cloud, and 
told him that it was the “flat top 1 ' range of the 
Allegheny mountains, beyond which was her 
childhood home But the enchanting view 
awakened no desire in his heart for a closer 
acquaintance with that, to him, distant country. 

Sammy’s acquaintance with the people of 
the world was also limited. While he was ac- 
quainted with the mountain people for miles 
around, he had met but few “outsiders.” Once 
he attended a political “speakin’ ” and heard 
Blair, the famous Charleston lawyer, talk tariff, 
which puzzled Sammy as much as it seems to 
have puzzled many wiser heads. Occsaionally 
he got glimpses of hunters from the valley and 


26 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

once the Pryor boys, while on a chase, stopped 
at the “dripping spring” for a drink, and 
Sammy watched, half alarmed, these well- 
dressed strangers, from around the corner of 
the cabin. Once two bear hunters stopped at 
the Brown home to rest and remained for din- 
ner, and Sammy’s mother came out to the spring 
and told' him, with some degree of pride, that 
they were entertaining distinguished guests — 
that one was Esquire Knight and the other 
Pap Toler, a member of the legislature, and 
both famous bear hunters. Sammy crept 
quietly to the door and peeped in at the visi- 
tors, and then, calling Sounder, hid himself in 
the forest until the great men were gone ! 

There was only one “outsider” that Sammy 
was at all intimate with, and that was “Bro. 
Eb,” the missionary. In fact, next to his 
mother — and Sounder — * k Bro. Eb” was consid- 
ered his best friend. The kind words spoken 
by the missionary when he . met Sammy were 
treasured up in the little boy’s mind, and he 
was never happier than when in the company 
of this humble missionary. 

Such was Sang Sammy, his parents, his 
home, his friends. He was, truly, a rugged, 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 27 

ignorant boy, as free from care, and as happy 
as all good, healthy boys ought to be. Loving 
his mother with all of his passionate nature, 
and loving his home, with its wild, romantic 
surroundings, with an intensity characteristic 
of mountain people, Sammy was perfectly con- 
tented with his lot in life. His young mind 
had never been troubled by the thought that 
there would ever be a change in his circum- 
stances. 

But the change came. The unexpected 
happened. The shadows were already hover- 
ing near, that were to darken the life of Sang 
Sammy. 


28 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


CHAPTER II. 

THE DEATH SONG. 

Sammy was surprised and troubled when he 
saw that his mother was strangely unlike her 
usual self. She moved slowly and quietly 
about her household duties. Throughout the 
entire day the banging of the rude loom, and 
the humming of the big spinning wheel, were 
not heard. But when Sammy, at the close of 
the day, seated himself on the door step with 
hymn book in hand, he was alarmed to hear 
his mother say : 

“We’ll not sing to-day, Sammy. I am not 
well, and don’t feel like singing.” 

Sammy was on his feet in an instant, beg- 
ging to be allowed to go after the u yarb doctor, ’ ’ 
who was depended on to dose the mountain 
people when sick. But the uneasy boy was 
sent to bed, assured that a night’s rest would 
make his loved mother well again. 

But next morning Sammy’s mother was not 
able to sit up, and the frightened boy fairly 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 29 

flew along the winding mountain paths after 
the “yarb doctor” and some of the nearest 
neighbor women. 

The doctor came, and soon pronounced it a 
bad case of the fever and at once began boiling 
his “yarbs,” while some kind-hearted neighbor 
women took charge, as house-keepers and 
nurses. But all of the dosing and nursing was 
in vain. The sick woman grew steadily worse 
throughout the day and night. The next day 
was a sad Sabbath in that humble home. The 
old doctor was fast losing hope, while the sym- 
pathetic women b.ecame more and more anx- 
ious, and, with apprehensive looks, low whis- 
pers and silent movements, went about the 
performance of their duties. 

It was in the afternoon that the old doctor 
left the room quietly, with an expressive glance 
at the women. The movement and signal 
were understood. One by one the watchers 
quietly slipped out of the room, and joined 
the little group gathered at the spring, where a 
consultation was being held. 

The old doctor declared it as his opinion 
that the woman would die before the close of 
the day — sick people always died, he asserted, 


The Consultation at the Spring. 



OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 31 

when “rattle-root tea” wouldn’t cure them. 
With gloomy faces and many sighs the woman 
agreed with the doctor in his conclusions. 

One women said she was sure something 
would happen, for she had dreamed only two 
nights before that she saw a funeral procession. 

Another said Old Sounder had howled 
mournfully nearly all the preceding night. 

Still another said that at the last “meetin’ ” 
the sick woman — “Sister Sarah” they called 
her — sang the old church hymns so sweetly that 
people cried, and said it was like the music of 
the angels. 

Then the solemn conclusion was reached 
that all of these omens meant “somethin’. ” 
No need to explain what this “somethin’ ” 
was. All eyes turned toward the cabin, while 
a sympathetic sigh escaped from more than 
one pair of lips. 

Sammy’s mother was dying! 

The mountain peeple may not live in as 
comfortable houses, nor wear as fine clothes, 
nor become as well educated, as some people, 
though but few of them were quite as poor as 
the Browns. But, taking them as a whole, 
they are the most hospitable, sympathetic, 


32 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

helpful people in the world. If there is sick- 
ness, every neighbor is a nurse ; if there is trou- 
ble, every neighbor is a comforter; if there is 
want, every neighbor is a helper. 

And they are, as a rule, patriotic and re- 
ligious. What their “meetin’s ” lack in deco- 
rum and formalities is more than made up for 
in earnestness and spirituality. They are an 
old-fashioned people, with old-time ideas of 
religious work and worship. The energy and 
enthusiasm of their passionate natures are man- 
ifest in their religious exercises. They venerate 
their religious teachers, and believe every word 
of the Bible. Their ideas in regard to 1 ‘get- 
tin’ ” religion are of the old-time kind — there 
must be “deep conviction, repentance, conver- 
sion.” And nothing but a religion that they 
know they possess will satisfy them. 

And many of these mountain families ad- 
here to the good, old custom of having family 
worship, as the well-worn Bibles and hymn- 
books testify. 

And it would be, in their opinion, almost 
an unpardonable sin to permit their friends to 
die without the consolation of religion. 

So these good neighbors had no sooner de- 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 33 

cided that the sick woman was dying, than it 
was agreed that there must be some “readin’, 
singin’, exhortin’ ” an’ prayin’ ” with Sister 
Sarah. 

As “Bro. Eb” was known to be at the school 
house holding u meetin’,” it was the unani- 
mous decision that he must be sent for to hold 
the services with the dying woman. A messen- 
ger was at once despatched after u Bro. Eb,” 
and the nurses returned to their duties in the 
sick room. 

It was nearing the close of the day when the 
messenger returned, accompanied by “Bro. 
Eb.” And as the missionary is a prominent 
character in our story, we must give him more 
particular mention : 

“Bro. Eb,” as the mountain people called 
him, was a little past middle age, but was a 
well-preserved, active man. Though uneduca- 
ted, he was well endowed Avith all of those qual- 
ifications necessary in a preacher of the gospel — 
good, sound judgment, discretion and zeal. 
He possessed, in an eminent degree, the stable, 
persevering, enterprising characteristics of his 
Scotch-Irish ancestry. He was a truly conse- 
crated man and a good, plain practical preacher. 



34 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

It is not to be wondered at that his untiring 
zeal and love for the souls of the people won 
universal love and confidence. And if a min- 
ister of the gospel was ever a good ‘ ‘angel” to 
any people, u Bro. Eb” was such to these hum- 
ble mountaineers. They needed churches and 
Sabbath schools, and k ‘Bro. Eb” supplied this 
need. And he not only organized churches and 
Sabbath schools, but trained the people in re- 
ligious work. Through the labors of the mis- 
sionary, the mountain people became better in- 
structed in the Scriptures and more stable in 
their Christian deportment, w T hile their worship 
became more decorous, without loss of spirit- 
uality. 

Such was “Bro. Eb” and some of the fruits 
of his zealous labors in this mission field. 

As the anxiously expected missionary en- 
tered the sick room there were hushed greet- 
ings and the company gathered around the 
couch of the sick woman. u Bro Eb” quietly 
and kindly talked to the dying woman, encour- 
aging her to look to her Redeemer for grace to 
sustain her in the dying hour. Eagerly did the 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 35 

dying woman listen to the words of consola- 
tion, while those around wept silently. 

Poor little Sammy was terror-stricken. He 
could not at first understand the meaning of 
these strange and mysterious doings. Of one 
thing he was sure — his mother was sick, and 
his heart was sad and filled with dreadful fore- 
bodings. He had passed two days and nights 
in silent agony, his little heart almost break- 
ing, as he heard the moanings of his suffering 
mother. 

Often, with only Sounder for company, he 
would go out on the mountain side and, throwing 
himself upon the ground, would weep bitterly. 

As the missionary consoled and exhorted 
the dying mother, the disconsolate child crept 
to the door, trembling as with an ague fit, and 
glanced within. The glimpse he got of his 
mother‘s white face sent the chill to his heart, 
and he quickly withdrew from the door and 
seated himself on the u low gap” in the fence. 
It began to dawn on his childish mind that his 
loved mother was dying, and the thought almost 
caused his heart to stop beating. If she died, 
he felt that he must die too — he just couldn’t 
live without her. 


36 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

He remembered that only four days before, 
at this very hour, he had sat beside his mother 
on the door step, and she had read a chapter 
from the Bible and they had united their voices 
in song as usual'. *' He remembered, too, that 
his mother read a chapter about a Bible woman 
dying and being buried in a cave, and how sur- 
prised he was to hear her say in strange, sol- 
emn tones : 

“Sammy. I feel like I won’t live long. 
When I die I wish they would bury me in the 
big cave over there, like they did the Bible 
woman!” Then she added, after a moment: 
“Of course it don't make no difference where 
our bodies rest, Sammy, so our spirits rest with 
Jesus. 

And now so soon after this strange conver- 
tion, the mother was dying, and Sammy was 
crying as if his heart would break. 

The shadows were silently falling into the 
valley — it would soon be dark — but Sammy 
still sat on the fence and mourned. But sud- 
denly he sprang to his feet, and gazed eagerly 
through his tears across the darkening valley 
at the cave, which was still visible. Then 
stretching his arm toward the cavern, he cried 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE 



The Cave 





38 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

out, as if unconsciously, in tones of anguish : 

u Yes, thar is whar th’all must bury my ma, 
an 1 thar’s whar th’all must bury me, too!” 

The touch of a gentle hand on the agitated 
boy’s shoulder recalled his wandering thoughts, 
and turning he looked down into the sympa- 
thetic face of the missionary. 

“Come, my little friend,” said the servant 
of God, “let us go into the house. You must 
be brave now, and show yourself to be a little 
man. Your mamma is dying? ” 

The words fell with crushing weight upon 
the lad. His strength left him, and he would 
have fallen from his position on the fence to 
the ground had not the strong arm of the mis- 
sionary supported him. 

What a scene was that within the humble 
home ! The dying wife, the sobbing husband, 
the heart-broken child, the solemn-faced mis- 
sionary, the old herb doctor, looking at his 
patient in despair, the circle of women, with 
aprons pressed to their eyes ! It was, indeed, 
a weird, impressive scene. 

With a mighty effort the will power of the 
woman gained for her a momentary victory 
over the grim monster which held her in its icy 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 39 

grasp. Her departing strength returned to her 
in a wonderful manner. Stretching forth her 
cold, white hands, she placed one on the head 
of her husband and the other was laid on the 
brow of Sammy, as if bestowing her dying 
blessing. Her voice was surprisingly strong 
and clear as she spoke : 

“Husband, I’ve but a short time to stay 
here. Be a good man, and meet me in heaven ! 
And promise me that you will be good to poor 
little Sammy, and train him up in the right 
way.” 

“Sarah, I promise ye t’ be a better man 
than I’ve been befo’ — I promise ye I’ll do th’ 
best I kin by Sammy,” sobbed the husband. 

Bob Brown, like too many indifferent hus- 
bands, under like circumstances, realized as 
never before the worth of such a good wife, and 
was as heart-broken as it was possible for such 
a man to be He even felt conscience-smitten 
that he had not been better to her during all 
the years that she had presided over his home. 

As the dying mother turned her gaze upon 
her son, her white lips quivered, and there was 
a momentary struggle with her emotions before 
she could speak : 


40 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

“Sammy, you are a good boy — no mother 
ever had a better child. I know that you won’t 
forget a mother’s love and prayers. You must 
remain a good boy and learn to love Jesus — 
your mother’s Saviour — and serve Him faith- 
fully, and then you can come to heaven after- 
while, and be with your mother forever. And, 
oh ! the beautiful songs we’ll sing together 
there ! I can hear the angels singing now ! ” 

“The dying saint gazed upward as she spoke 
as if seeing, as well as hearing, the angel choir, 
while a holy light seemed to shine down from 
the throne of God upon her countenance. Re- 
calling her wandering thoughts, she continued : 

“I always hoped, Sammy, that we might go 
back to my Virginia home and give you a 
chance. I didn't want us to fill a grave in this 
lonely valley — 

“An’ we won’t — I won’t let ’em put yo’ in 
th’ col’ groun’ and kiver yo’ up!” almost 
shouted Sammy. 

The exclamation, so sudden, so passionate, 
startled all in the room ; even the dying mother 
looked at her son in surprise. No one could 
then know of the strange thoughts which were 
crowding his youthful mind. They would know 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 41 

afterward. The missionary kindly soothed the 
agitated lad, and the mother continued : 

“Poor little Sammy, it must be so now. 
The Lord’s will be done.. May God bless you, 
my darling boy, and keep you, is my dying 
prayer. Now, let “Bro. Eb” read from the old 
Bible once more and pray.” 

How solemn and how comforting the words 
of Holy Writ as they fell from the lips of the 
reader: “Let not your heart be troubled ; ye 
believe in God, believe also in me. In My 
Father’s house are many mansions ; if it were 
not so I would have told you. I go to prepare 
a place for you; and if I go and prepare a 
place for you I will come again and receive you 
to myself, that where I am, there ye may be 
also.” 

There are no words of consolation, in the 
dying hour, like the words of the Holy Scrip- 
tures. 

Then there was a brief, earnest prayer by the 
missionary. He pleaded for the presence of 
the Lord with the dying woman — that as she 
had never lacked living grace, she might now 
have abundance of dying grace. 

The sick woman sat upon her couch sup- 



42 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

ported by one of the nurses. Her hands were 
crossed peacefully, her eyes closed as if in holy 
communion with her Lord. As the prayer 
closed, the watchers were startled by the voice 
of the dying woman breaking out into song 
with all the old-time sweetness. It was the 
old church hymn, too, that she and Sammy 
had sung together when they sat side by side 
on the door step for the last time. Never more 
sweetly or appropriately fell the words of the 
dear old hymn from mortal lips : 

“On Jordan's rugged banks I stand 
And cast a wistful eye 
To Canaan’s fair and happy land, 

Where my possessions lie !” 

It was a scene to have stirred the emotions 
of man or angel, and the missionary, the hus- 
band and neighbors gazed upon the glorified 
countenance of the dying singer through their 
tears. 

But, strange to relate, the death song seemed 
to have had a different effect on Sammy. As 
he heard the loved voice as of old, he dashed 
away his tears and drew nearer his mother and, 
as if unconsciously, their hands were clasped 


“SANG SAMMY”— A STORY 


43 


as they would be when sitting side by side in 
the old, happy days. As the mother began to 
sing the second stanza, Sammy joined in, and 
these two — mother and child — united their 
sweet voices in song once more! They always 
sang sweetly, but now it seemed heavenly ! 

It was a holy scene! The missionary had 
never before witnessed such a triumphant de- 
parture from this world of sin and sorrow. It 
seemed to the watchers that heaven and earth 
were not far apart ! As the holy duet pro- 
ceeded the woman's face began to glow, as if 
reflecting light from above, while her gaze was 
fixed upward in glad wonder, as if she already 
saw the pearly gates swinging wide to admit 
her into the glorious home of God’s children. 
The sympathetic women cried aloud, while the 
missionary, with a countenance almost as 
bright as the dying saint’s, shouted aloud: 

“Amen! Glory! Who wouldn’t live and 
die a Christian. Take all this world, but give 
me Jesus and a death like that!” 

The voice of the glorified singer was falling 
into a low, sweet wisper, and the watchers drew 


44 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

nearer and bowed low to catch the words of the 
last verse : 

“Filled with delight my raptured soul 
Would here no longer stay ; 

Though Jordon's waves around me roll, 
Fearless. I'd launch away !” 

Softly and sweetly the death song ended. 
The watchers waited anxiously. But that voice 
would never be heard by mortal ears again. 
Sang Sammy’s mother was dead ! 


“SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 45 


CHAPTER III. 

A STRANGE BURIAL. 

There was a consultation by the neighbors 
as to the time and place of the burial. Down 
the creek a mile or two was a “pint” which was 
dotted over with little mounds and rude en- 
closures — the unfailing signs of a mountain 
graveyard. It was here they would bury Mrs. 
Brown, so they decided. But to the astonish* 
ment of all, Sammy objected, exclaiming: 

“You shan’t put my ma in th’ col’ groun’ 
an’ kiver her up 1 She tol’ me she did’nt want 
ter be put in th’ groun’ ! ” 

As the little fellow spoke he drew himself 
up, defiantly. His strange words and actions 
alarmed his friends — they feared trouble had 
dethroned his reason. 

“We’all must die — notwithstandin’ the 
curative properties of ‘rattle-root,’ and be 
buried semetime, Sammy,” said the old herb 
doctor, soothingly. 

“Yes, we’all must die sometime, I s’pose,” 


46 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

insisted Sammy, “butyo'all aint gwine ter put 
me and my ma in the groun’.” 

“What would you have us do, my poor 
boy?” asked the puzzled missionary. 

“God made a beautiful home for ma’s spirit 
up yander — she said so” — and the agitated 
boy pointed upward — “an’ He’s done took her 
thar! An’ He made the big cave over thar” — 
and he pointed across the valley at the ‘rocky 
face’ cliffs — “for her body an’ mine, an’ 
we’all will bury her thar, just like they buried 
the Bible woman that ma read about 1” 

It was in vain to try to reason with Sammy. 
He would hear to nothing else than that the 
cave should be his mother’s tomb. At last the 
father was appealed to, and, to the astonish- 
ment of these simple-minded folk, Bob Brown 
decided that the boy’s whim should be humored, 
and that the body should be placed in the cave. 

The neighbors consented to the decision of 
Sammy and his father, but with much dissat- 
isfaction. Such a heathenish way of burying 
people had never been heard of before in all 
the mountain country. And more than one 
good woman said she was glad it wasn’t her 
that was to be put in that big lonely cave — the 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 47 

home of wild cats and “painters” — which, no 
doubt, was true enough. 

The old herb doctor shook his head in a dis- 
satisfied manner, and resolved that he would 
never prowl around the locality of that cave 
any more hunting roots and herbs. 

But as no one had any legal right to inter- 
fere, preparations were made to carry out the 
wishes of Sammy and his father.. 

Such a funeral had never been heard of 
before, and the news spread rapidly Tar and 
wide. At the appointed hour the “coves,” the 
“flat tops,” the valleys — all poured forth 
streams of humanity. The mountain people 
never like to miss, even an ordinary, every-day 
funeral, but on this occasion none could afford 
to be absent. 

There were some remarks by the missionary, 
a song, a prayer, then strong hands lifted the 
coffin — a strong box made of rough planks — 
and it was borne from the cabin. “Bro. Eb” 
led the procession, while Sammy and his father 
were immediately behind the coffin-bearers, 
the crowd following in the rear. 

Down the rocky path the procession slowly 
wended its way, across the little valley, over 


48 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

the rippling waters of the creek, then upward 
toward the cliffs, following the zigzag path. 

The procession moved slowly and painfully, 
but at last it halted on the level spot in front 
of the cavern, which, to the awe-stricken ob- 
servers, seemed to be larger and gloomier than 
ever before. 

The coffin was placed upon a large rock and 
the people gathered around with looks of curi- 
osity and wonder. 

“Bro. Eb’’ conducted the funeral services. 
A hymn was sung in hushed and solemn tones, 
and then the missionary said he would read 
from the Scriptures the chapter which the de- 
parted sister read for the last time the day be- 
fore her illness, and which was, indirectly, the 
cause of this strange burial. At these words 
the people quietly moved closer to the reader, 
and every ear was strained to catch every word 
that was uttered. 

“And the life of Sarah was an hundred and 
seven and twenty years : these were the years 
of the life of Sarah. And Sarah died in Kir- 
jatharba ; the same is Hebron in the land of 
Canaan ; and Abraham came to mourn for 
Sarah and to weep for her. And Abraham 


“SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


49 


stood up from before his dead, and spake unto 
the sons of Heth, saying: ‘I am a stranger 
and sojourner with you ; give me a possession 
for a burying place with you, that I may bury 
my dead out of sight. And the children of 
Heth answered Abraham, saying unto him : 
Hear us, my Lord: thou art a mighty prince 
among us ; in the choice of our sepulchres bury 
thy dead. And Abraham stood up, and bowed 
himself to the people of the land, even to the 
the children of Heth. And he communed with 
them saying : If it be your mind that I should 
bury my dead out of my sight, hear me, and 
entreat for me to Ephron, the son of Zohar, 
that he may give me the cave of Machpelah, 
which he hath, which is in the end of his field, 
for as much as it is worth he shall give it me 
for a possession of a burying place amongst 
you. And Ephron dwelt among the children 
of Heth. And Ephron, the Hittite, answered 
Abraham in the audience of the children of 
Heth, even of all that went in at the gate of the 
city saying: Nay, my Lord, hear me: the field 
I give thee, and the cave that is therein I give 
thee; in the presence of the sons of my people 
give I it thee ; bury thy dead. And Abraham 


50 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

bowed down himself before the people of that 
land. And he spake unto Ephron in the audi- 
dence of the people of the land saying: But 
if thou wilt give it, I pray thee hear me : I 
will give the money for the field ; take it for 
me, and I will bury my dead there. And 
Ephron answered unto Abraham, saying unto 
him: My Lord, hearken unto me: the land is 
worth four hundred shekels of silver; what is 
that betwixt me and thee? Bury, therefore, 
thy dead. And Abraham hearkened unto 
Ephron ; and Abraham weighed unto Ephron 
the silver, which he had named in the audience 
of the sons of Heth, four hundred shekels of 
silver, current money with the merchant. And 
the field of Ephron, which was in Machpelah, 
which was before Mamre, the field and the cave 
which was therein, and all of the trees that 
were in the field, that were in the borders round 
about, were made sure unto Abraham for a 
possession in the presence of the children of 
Heth, before all that went in at the gate of his 
city. And after this Abraham buried Sarah, 
his wife, in the cave of the field of Machpelah 
before Mamre : the same is Hebron in the land 
of Canaan. And the field and the cave that is 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 51 

therein, were made sure unto Abraham for a 
burying place by the sons of Heth.” 

As the missionary read the Scriptures, poor 
little Sammy’s thoughts wandered back to that 
last happy evening when he sat by his mother’s 
side and heard these words fall from her lips. 
But he was recalled to the sorrowful present by 
the voice of the missionary praying. And it 
was a touching, tender petition. Every eye 
dimmed as the man ef God pleaded for divine 
blessings, especially upon the orphan lad, bow- 
ing by his side. 

The services being ended, the coffin was 
again lifted, the procession reformed, and, with 
slow, solemn tread, entered the cavern. 

Back where the dim light and shadows 
merged into semi-darkness, was a table rock 
jutting out from the wall, and upon this the 
coffin was placed. The missionary thanked the 
helpful neighbors, in behalf of Sammy and his 
father, and then pronounced the benediction. 
The people were at liberty to disperse, but for 
some moments they stood irresolutely, gazing 
around the gloomy house of the dead, and at 
each other, in silent awe and wonder, as if ex- 


52 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

pecting something unusual to happen. And 
they were not disappointed : 

Suddenly, Sammy left his father’s side and 
sprang upon the table-rock and stood beside 
his mother's coffin. Taking a piece of charcoal 
from his pocket, he wrote slowly and painfully 
on the top of the coffin. Then facing the won- 
dering spectators be managed between his sobs 
to say : 

“When — I’m — dead — I wan’t — yo’all to put 
me — in a box — just like this’n — and put me — 
right here — by th’ side— of my ma!” 

Then the lad slipped down from the rock, 
and, weeping aloud, ran out of the cave. 

For a moment the spectators stood looking 
at each other through their tears, as if puzzled 
as to what should next be done. But “Bro. 
Eb” broke the spell by moving over to the 
coffin, where he paused long enough to read the 
charcoal writing on the top of the box, and 
then led the way out of the cave. 

One by one the others filed past the box and 
glanced at the writing. Those who could read 
saw there in rude letters : 

SANG SAMMY’S MUTHER 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 53 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE NEW MOTHEK. 

Poor little Sang Sammy soon learned what 
it was to be a motherless child. Like all orphan 
children, be learned the worth of a good mother 
after she was lost to him. It seemed to him 
that every hour in the day he missed her cheer- 
ful voice and helpful hand. But most of all 
he missed a mother’s love. It seemed to him 
that he could never be reconciled to his great 
loss. 

But Bob Brown’s mourning period was a 
short one. He was one of those ignorant, shal- 
low-minded, heartless men, who soon out-live 
such sorrows as he had experienced. He soon 
forgot his vows to his dying wife — as all such 
heartless husbands do under like circumstances. 
He had never been companionable with Sammy, 
and now he was more distant and unsociable 
than ever before. In fact he treated the poor, 
heart-sore child shamefully. Home seemed to 
have fewer attractions than ever, for him, and 


54 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

most of his days were spent abroad. Sammy 
was left alone day after day, with only Sounder 
for company. Sammy w T as not only forbidden 
to leave the cabin, but was compelled to do all 
the work about the place. These were indeed 
lonely days. He would sit of evenings on the 
door step, think over the old happy days when 
his mother sat there by his side and they would 
sing together. He never sang there now — he 
had no heart to sing. It seemed to the boy 
that he could not bear it all were it not for his 
one true friend — old Sounder. The old dog 
seemed to understand that his young master 
was in trouble and tried in every possible way 
at his command to show his sympathy. Often 
the boy caressed his four-footed friend and 
eased his heart-burdens by telling the faithful 
animal all about his troubles. 

Thus day after day passed over the head of 
Sammy, until two months had elapsed since 
his mother died. Time was healing his wounded 
heart, and he was recovering something of his 
former cheerfulness. But it was hard for him 
to become accustomed to his lonely life. His 
father was seldom at home during the long days, 
and when he was present, he never tried to 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 55 

remove a single burden from the heart or 
shoulders of his son. 

Sammy felt that he could be almost happy 
again if permitted to roam the mountains as 
of old, with Sounder, hunting “sang.” But 
Bob Brown had work for him to perform that 
would not permit him to enjoy the old free life 
on the mountains. And never was a boy more 
puzzled than was Sammy by the orders he re- 
ceived from his father. Every day brought 
some unexpected duty. One day he had orders 
to re-chink and re-daub the cabin nicely 
One day he must level up the big fire-place. 
Then the yard fence must be rebuilt. The 
brush arbor stable was to be made new. The 
bushes around the place had to be cut down 
and the grounds swept clean. So the work went 
on until there was a wonderful change for the 
better in the appearance of the Brown home. 

Sammy worked on patiently, wondering 
what it all meant. Why had not the place 
been fixed up while his mother lived? He re- 
membered that she often asked his father to 
brighten up their home, but he always said it 
was good enough as it was for him. 

Poor, innocent, little Sammy worked on, 


56 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

little suspecting the cause of all these strange 
doings. But he was to be kept no longer in 
ignorance. The tide of sorrow was again rising, 
and his young life would again be submerged. 
His cup of anguish had been full, but it would, 
soon, run over. The shadows would give place 
to midnight darkness. 

One afternoon the unexpected appearance 
at the door of the cabin of Bob Brown startled 
Sammy within. But following the father into 
the cabin was a strange woman, who not only 
startled but alarmed the lad ! 

Bob Brown’s embarrassment gave way to 
evident displeasure as he saw that Sammy eyed 
the new comer suspiciously, if not ungra- 
ciously. Turning to the woman he said : 

“ Peggy, this here boy is Sammy that I done 
tol’ yer about.” 

Then turning to Sammy, he continued in 
displeased and threatening tones : 

“Sammy, this here woman is Mrs. Brown, 
yer new ma, an’ if yer don’t be good an’ mind 
her every time she speaks to ye, I’ll skin ye 
alive. Don’t ye forget it!” 

“Peggy” took off her bonnet and pitched it 
over on the bed, seated herself on one of the 




58 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

benches, and looked her new home over. Evi- 
dently she was none too well pleased with her 
inspection, for she turned to Sammy and spoke 
in a loud, harsh voice: 

“Sammy, yo’ ain’t no good at housekeepin’, 
I see that. Things don’t look very kerniptious 
— jist like men folks allers keeps house. But 
ye’ve got a boss now, an’ I’ll see to it that ye 
do yer work right hereafter. I don’t have no 
shirkin’ whar I be. Now tote up a pail o’ 
warter an’ I’ll see if yer any good at cookin’ !” 

And the woman laughed a great, coarse 
guffaw, as if what she had said was very funny. 
But there was no fun in it for poor little 
Sammy. He was trembling before the woman, 
and looking at her as if terror-stricken. It 
seemed as if he could neither move or speak. 
What should he do? What could he do? 

This woman his mother? This coarse, igno- 
rant, rough-talking woman take the place of 
his gentle, refined, soft-voiced mother? It 
could not be — it should not be. He could not 
endure it. He would run away — out into the 
world, and take his chances among strangers! 
So he thought. 

The angry voice of the father recalled the 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 59 

wandering thoughts of the boy. 

‘ ‘Don’t ye hear yer ma a speakin’? We ’all 
had jist as well larn ye a lesson to once. You’ve 
got to be broke in, I see that. I sed I’d skin 
ye alive if yo’ didn’t mind yo’ ma, an’ now 
I’m gwine t’ do it ! ” 

Bob Brown snatched up his long squirrel 
rifle as he spoke, drew forth the hickory ramrod 
and approached the boy to begin his cruel work. 

Sammy dodged the stroke that was aimed 
at his shoulders, and sprang toward the open 
door! But the • sharp-eyed woman seemed to 
have been anticipating some such action on the 
part of the boy, for she caught him before he 
reached the door and held him a prisoner in 
her iron grasp. 

Poor little Sammy gave up, but a ray of 
hope flashed across his mind— perhaps they 
would kill him ! 

But help came to the lad from an unex- 
pected source. Old Sounder had shrunk back 
under the bed at the appearance of the strange 
woman, none too well pleased at her intrusion. 
Her harsh tone of voice while talking had in- 
creased the dog’s dislike of the new mistress. 
When the assault was made on Sammy, the 


60 


‘SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 




OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 61 

brave old dog seemed to think it about time to 
take a hand — or a tooth, rather — in the pro- 
ceedings, so he crawled quickly from his hiding 
place. The woman held Sammy by the arm, 
and the father approached, his features exhib- 
iting passion, and again the cruel rod was 
raised high above the shrinking child! 

But the blow never fell 1 With a howl of 
rage old Sounder sprang upon the woman, 
knocking her back against the door, and in 
another moment boy and dog were out of the 
the door and flying down the rocky path, the 
old dog trying to spit from his mouth the 
shreds of a calico dress sleeve ! 

When the couple in the cabin had recovered 
from their surprise enough to learn that the 
woman was unharmed by the assault of the 
dog, Bob Brown was almost beside himself 
rage. He ran out into the yard, and called 
after the runaways, but they paused not in their 
headlong flight. He watched them as they 
reached the little valley, turn down the path 
and disappear behind the rocky-point. 

Bob Brown’s anger left him as he saw his 
son disappear, and he felt ashamed and trou- 
bled at his treatment of his child. 


62 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

Miserable father ! Little did he think, then, 
that he had cruelly mistreated his son for the 
last time. 

Bob Brown never saw his son again. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


63 


CHAPTER V. 

THE MYSTERIOUS SONG. 

Bob Brown watched and waited for Sammy’s 
return in vain, and he returned to the cabin 
much disturbed in spirit. And he was heartily 
ashamed of himself, too, and sincerely regret- 
ted his harsh treatment of his child. He had 
feared that Sammy would rebel against his new 
wife, and so had agreed with her that the best 
plan would be to “break him in” at once: 
hence their abuse of Sammy so soon after ar- 
riving at the cabin. 

But Bob Brown had but little idea how 
much of his noble mother’s spirit Sammy had 
inherited, or he would never have tried to crush 
him in such a cruel manner. 

That afternoon in the Brown home was not 
a happy one for the newly wedded couple. The 
wife was out of humor because her plans with 
reference to Sammy had utterly failed. And 
she resolved that when she laid hands on the 


64 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

boy again she wouldn’t depend on others to 
beat him — she would do that herself. But 
when she began to patch the rent made in her 
dress sleeve by old Sounder’s teeth, her anger 
actually alarmed her husband. She sentenced 
Sammy’s friend to an awful death when he 
should return, and could only be pacified by 
Bob Brown’s promising to “lick” Sammy and 
kill Sounder at the first opportunity. 

Now, that Sammy was gone, Bob Brown 
“toted” the water himself — something he was 
never known to do for his first wife. “Peggy” 
prepared a supper of “co’n pone,” bacon and 
black coffee. The meal was eaten almost in 
silonce. The husband for the first time com- 
pared this woman with the one who formerly 
presided at his table, and the comparison was 
not flattering to the present Mrs. Brown. She 
was untidy in dress, her flaxen hair was a 
stranger to comb, her features coarse, and her 
teeth and lips stained by the use of tobacco, 
for she chewed, smoked and “dipped” the filthy 
weed. 

The woman was not only dissatisfied with 
her reception, but she was thinking that she 
could never live in such an out-of-the-way 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


65 


place. She feared it would be lonesome here. 
Up on the Gauley river, where she had lived, 
neighbors were numerous and it was never lone- 
some. The people there were never too busy 
to go “visitin’.” In fact, many families seemed 
to have time for but little else than “visitin’ ” 
Often several families— men, women and chil- 
dren — would “visit” for two or three days at a 
time. The men would kill squirrels, or, if nec- 
essary, slaughter a sheep or two, while the 
women would cook, card, spin, weave and talk. 
“Peggy” liked such socibility, and feared from 
the prospects that she was doomed to a lonely 
existence. 

The meal was finished, the table cleared, 
the pots and pans hung against the wall, and 
still Sammy and Sounder came not. The even- 
ing shadows had crept down the mountain side 
beyond, and were marching stealthily across 
tho valley, when Bob Brown seated himself in 
the door of the cabin to watch anxiously for 
the return of Sammy, although he felt that his 
son would never return. “Peggy” came and 
sat down by the side of her husband, and Bob 
Brown felt rather glad that Sammy wasn’t 


66 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

there to see them sitting on that sacred 
spot. 

It was the first time the woman had looked 
upon the magnificent scenery surrounding her 
new home. Her gaze followed thg course of 
the silvery stream winding its way through the 
valley, darting from side to side, like a huge 
serpent. She looked across the valley at the 
darkening mountain, with interest, until at 
last her gaze rested in wonder upon the cavern 
at the foot of the “rocky-face” cliffs. 

“What’s that air over thar — a coal mine?” 
she asked, pointing toward the object which 
had excited her curiosity. 

“Only a whoppin’ big cave,” replied the 
man, uneasily. He had good reason for not 
wishing his wife to ask questions about that 
cave. 

“Wal, I’m , glad yo’all have caves — I like 
caves. I seed Luney cave up on Gauley once, 
but yo’ bet I didn’t poke my' head in thar, 
cause I’ve got little enough sense now, an’ 
didn’t want to go plum crazy. But I ’spose 
thars but one Luney cave, an’ so we’uns must 
go over thar some day an’ see that’n, an’ poke 
our heads inside, too.” 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


67 


“We’uns don’t want nothin’ to do with that 
air cave, ‘Peggy,’ ” exclaimed the husband, 
excitedly. 

“Is it a Luney cave sure enough?” asked 
the woman, opening wide her eyes in surprise. 

“Wusser ’n that — its hanted — at least folks 
say it is, kh’ we’uns don't want to gothar!” 
was the alarming assertion of the man. 

Bob Brown did not wish his new wife to 
know— at least so soon after her coming — that 
the cave was the burial place of his first wife. 
Hia mse was likely to succeed, for Peggy Brown 
was as superstitious as she was ignorant. She 
shivered when “hants” were mentioned and 
crept closer to her husband. 

For a time there was silence, while the gaze 
of each was fixed upon the entrance to the mys- 
terious cave. The suggestion of “hants” cast 
a gloom over the superstitious couple. And 
never was a topic suggested at a more unfortu- 
nate time. It seemed to prepare them for the 
alarming experiences that followed : 

A wild, weird, sweet song, came floating on 
the gentle breeze down from the opposite moun- 
tain! 

The man and woman were on their feet in 
an instant, clinging to each other as if terror- 
stricken ! 


68 


SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


My God, wlmt’s that — a “hant? v cried the 


frightened woman. 



; ‘My God, What's That — a Hant? 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 69 

Again the mysterious song was heard, and 
it seemed to be floating right out of the cave ! 
Bob Brown’s heart sank as he recognized the 
voice of the singer, or thought he did. 

“ Speak man! What does it mean — tell me 
— I must know?’’ The woman was so alarmed 
that she was now almost in a frenzy. 

Bob Brown, like most ignorant persons, was 
a believer in “hants.” He never doubted the 
truth of all the ghost stories with which the 
mountain country abounds. The more unrea- 
sonable they were the more he believed them 
true. He paid but little attention to the preach- 
ing of Eld. Moore, the Baptist evangelist, but 
when the Elder told an unreasonable story 
about a ghostly hog over on Poca river, Bob 
Brown believed every word of it. He could 
not stay awake an hour to hear a sermon, but 
could sit up all night and listen to Uncle Jack 
Perry tell, over and over again, about the dream 
that led him to become a Christian. Though 
Uncle Jack told it as a dream, Bob Brown be- 
lieved that three black devils actually did chase 
Uncle Jack until they almost got him! And 
there wasn’t money enough in the mountain 
State to hire him to go past the Indian mound 



70 ‘‘SANG SAMMY”— A STORY 

on Cabin Creek after dark, for fear the two 
ghostly Indians would chase him, as they had 
done so many others. With such superstitious 
ideas it is not to be wondered at that Bob 
Brown was now a badly scared man. He was 
even scared into telling the truth — as he under- 
stood it. In a quivering, husky voice, he an- 
swered Peggy’s inquiry: 

“That’s Sairry, my first wife, a singin’ ! She 
alius sung — her an’ Sammy — at this time 
o’day! She’s buried up thar in the cave!” 

Again was heard the blood-curdling, ghostly 
song, in tones strangely familiar to the hus- 
band ! 

With a shriek, the almost crazed woman 
sprang into the house, followed by her husband. 

“I’ll not stay here another minit, ’ ’ screamed 
the frantic woman; “we’uns must be gwine at 
once — or I must. We’uns might a knowed 
that ar’ woman would hant us ! I had no busi- 
ness cornin’ here an’ her tracks still in th’ 
yard ! ’ ’ 

The proposition to hasten away suited the 
inclinations of Bob Brown. They could not 
go away quickly enough, or go far enough, to 
suit his desires. Gladly would he turn his back 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 71 

upon his old home, and upon Sammy, if he 
could only escape such terrifying experiences 
as he had just passed through. 

Quickly the old horse was brought from the 
brush arbor stable and packed with a few 
things that could be hastily tied into packages ; 
the old rifle was taken down from its resting 
place on the deer horns for the last time ; the 
dogs were called, and the start was made. Bob 
Brown leading the horse, preceded by his wife, 
hurried along the zigzag mountain path toward 
the “low gap,” where the path crossed the 
mountain ridge. Without even a glance back- 
ward toward the old home, Bob Brown and his 
new wife disappeared in the gloomy forest and 
were never seen in that country again. 


72 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


CHAPTER VI. 

r SAMMY’S CUP OF SORROW RUNS OYER. 

Sammy and Sounder continued their head- 
long flight for only a few rods after disappear- 
ing behind the rocky point. The runaways 
suddenly stopped. Sammy’s first thought was 
to get away from home and go away off into 
the world — where, he cared not. Any place 
was preferable to the old home with that hor- 
rid woman there. But as he sped swiftly along 
the path, the thought came to him that he was 
also running away from his mother’s sepulcher. 
It is was this thought that caused him to pause. 
He glanced up at the cliffs and a new impulse 
seized him. He would visit the cave once more 
— he had not been there since the funeral. 
Then he would try to decide what he should do. 

He crossed the spreading waters of the creek 
by leaping from boulder to boulder, startling 
the speckled-backed “hog suckers,” causing 
them to dart from under the rocks, and swim 


of Mountain people. 73 

lazily away in search of other hiding places. 
Making his way through the underbrush, he 
soon came to the path which led up to the 
cave. Along this rugged road the hardy boy 
bounded, until the foot of the cliff was reached. 

A glance within the gloomy cavern revealed 
to the boy his mother’s coffin resting on the 
table rock. His over-charged feelings gave 
way, and he wept aloud. From the bottom of 
his heart he wished that he was dead and rest- 
ing beside his mother. 

He felt better after a good cry, and seated t 
himself on the rocks to rest and to think. He 
had wished himself dead, but after reflection 
he was not so sure about that. If only he knew 
that he was a Christian, like his mother, then 
it would be better if he were out of this trou- 
blesome world. But he wasn’t right sure that 
he was ready to die. He had been thinking 
ever since his mother’s death of her last words 
— that he must love and serve Jesus, and when 
he died he would go to meet her in heaven. He 
had often tried to pray and believe that he was 
a Christian, but he was not yet satisfied with 
his spiritual state. And as he thought it all 
over, this dissatisfaction increased. 


74 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

“Ma said she knowed she was a Christian, 
an’ that’s th’ kind o’ ’ligion I want,” he kept 
repeating to himself. 

He finally decided that he could only keep 
on trying to pray — he could do nothing else. 
One thought comforted him — his dying mother 
had prayed for him. 

“Surely God will not ferget that ar prayer,” 
he said hopefully. 

This was the best loved hour of the day for 
Sammy — the hour when he and his sainted 
mother, in the old happy days, would sit in the 
door of the old home and speed the parting day 
with sweet songs. Such thoughts moved the 
boy to take an interest once more in his old 
home, and, for the first time, he glanced down 
at the old cabin, and again he burst into tears. 
There, on that sacred spot to him, sat his father 
and that woman by his side, in his own sainted 
mother’s place. 

As the distressed child wept aloud the old 
dog crept close to his side and looked pityingly 
up into his face, whining assurances of sympa- 
thy. Tears— and the sympathy of his one 
friend — brought relief to his troubled heart. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 75 

He ceased to weep, and this thoughts wandered 
back to the old, happy days. His troubles were 
forgotton, for the moment, and he was sitting 
again by his mother’s side, singing the old 
church songs. Then, as if involuntarily, he 
began to sing as of old — the first time he had 
lifted his voice in song since his mother’s death. 
But it was the same sweet voice, so like his 
mother’s. The song wonderfully soothed and 
calmed the, agitated boy. 

But Sammy’s innocent song, carried ter- 
ror to, the superstitious and conscience* trou- 
bled man and .woman in the old home. Uncon- 
scious of the unhappy effects on others, Sammy 
continued to sing the hymn through, and felt 
much the better for it. He could think more 
rationally now. If he returned home there 
would, doubtless, be beatings, harsh words and 
heavy heart-burdens to bear; but if he ran 
away from these troubles he must turn his back 
on his mother’s tomb, and when he should die 
he could not rest by her side. These consider- 
ations settled his mind conclusively. He would 
go back home. He put his arms around old 
Sounder’s neck and drew him close to his side, 


76 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


exclaiming almost joyfully: 



“The old Dog Stole a Kiss.” 

“We’uns won’t run off after all, will we, 
Sounder? We’ll go back home an’ bear it all 
for her sake, won’t we, Sounder?” 

The old dog stole a kiss from the boy’s 
cheek — dog fashion — and partaking of Sammy’s 
changed mood, wagged his tail gleefully and 
whined his assent to his young master’s con- 
clusions. 

With a last glance at the coffin in the cave, 
Sammy bounded along the winding path down 
the mountain side toward his home. 



OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 77 

Poor, little, unfortunate Sang Sammy. No 
sooner had he recovered in some degree his 
boyish bouyancy of spirits, than he would be 
plunged into still greater trials and troubles. 

As he toiled up the rocky path from the val- 
ley to the cabin, he wondered at the strange 
silence of the place. Not a sound was heard — 
not even the hounds bayed their usual welcome. 
He noticed, too, that the door of the cabin was 
ajar, and that there was no light within. With 
feelings of apprehension he vaulted over the 
“low gap” and sprang through the open door 
into the room. A glance around and his heart 
sank within him. 

Deserted 1 He saw it, felt it ! Father gone, 
rifle gone, dogs gone!” 

Out of the door the now thoroughly affrighted 
boy leaped and ran to the stable — the horse 
was gone 1 

As he realized his situation — a poor, friend- 
less, homeless lad, terror seized him. He could 
not stay there alone — he would follow and over- 
take the run-aways. Along the rapidly dark- 
ening path he dashed until swallowed up by 
the dark forest. There was more than one 
path — he could not know which to follow. He 



78 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

stopped and listened eagerly. 

“Pa, o — h p — a!” 

The childish call rose in tones of anguish 
only to return in broken echoes. 

Anxiously Sammy listened, hoping for a 
response to his call. But hope died when he 
he heard the baying of the hounds away off 
along the mountain ridge. He could never 
overtake the fleeing parents, even if he could 
follow their trail. What could he do! 

A wild cat screamed among the rocks upon 
the mountain side, and Sounder, growling a 
defiant reply, crept closer to the boy, with the 
hair on his back on end. The screech of a 
hideous night-own overhead chilled for a mo- 
ment the blood in the affrighted boy’s veins. 
He stood irresolute, trembling with fear. Then 
suddenly rallying, he fled swiftly back to thd 
cabin. Dashing into the room, followed by 
Sounder, he quickly closed the door, fastened 
the window shutter and threw himself on his 
face upon his hard trundle-bed. Old Sounder 
crept close to the side of the desolate lad, and 
a little arm encircled the old dog’s neck. 

For a time a death-like stillness prevailed, 
broken only by an occasional sob which Sammy 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 79 

could not suppress. 

Yes, indeed, was Sammy’s cup of sorrow 
now running over. 

The shadows had given place to midnight 
darkness. *>■ 3 




f. 


80 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE REVIVAL MEETING. 

Sammy laid prostrate, thinking as best he 
could. He could not remain alone in the old 
home. But where could he go? 

Then the image of “Bro. Eb” rose before 
his mental vision. Here was a true friend — he 
felt sure of that. He would go and find “Bro. 
Eb” — but where? How? The missionary lived 
away off in the big river valley, and perhaps 
he could not be found. His hopes fell at the 
thought, but — 

A shout of joy fell from the boy’s lips and 
he sprang to his feet, startling old Sounder, 
who had wandered off into the land of dog 
dreams. 

The boy had remembered in the moment of 
despondency that it was “Bro. Eb’s” time to 
hold “meetin’ ” over at the school house. His 
plans were quickly formulated. A hasty meal 
of cold “pone” and bacon was eaten, Sounder 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 81 

getting a full share. Then, with a blazing 
“lighterwood” torch, made from a piece of 
“fat” pine, in his hand, he turned his back 
upon his old home for the last time. It was 
quite dark now, but, swinging high the torch, 
the path was lighted so he could follow it safely 
and swiftly. Down the steep path, across the 
valley, over the dark waters of the creek and 
up the steep mountain side, he hurried. 

Sammy knew the path well, and, being a 
strong, active boy, he soon surmounted the 
ridge and was skipping dow r n the path that led 
to the school house. 

With feelings of relief Sammy heard a great 
volume of song rolling up the mountain side 
from the valley. It told him that the meeting 
was in progress. The torch was cast aside, and 
after resting a moment, he entered the place of 
worship. 

The school house was made of logs — one of 
the old fashioned kind. A section of a log on 
each side sawed out, served for windows. The 
seats were made of logs split through the center, 
the flat part upward and supported by pegs 
driven into augur holes in the half-round 
bottom of the slab. Tw r o or three smoking 


82 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

campaign torches gave a gloomy light. 

And what a crowd was there! The room 
was literally packed. The people for miles 
around were present, for a revival meeting was 
in progress and revival meetings never failed 
to draw crowds. 

‘‘Then, too, the preacher had something to 
do with the large attendance. Not every preacher 
would have been so honored. But “Bro. Eb,” 
by his devotion to his work and evident desire 
to benefit the peop'e, had won their confidence 
and love. It was their delight to attend “Bro. 
EbV’ “meetin’s.” And many were the souls 
led to Christ through the efforts of this zealous 
missionary. 

It was with some difficulty that Sammy 
worked his way through the crowded aisle, but 
at last he secured a position near the pulpit, 
and there, to his delight, was “Bro. Eb,’” just 
reading his text. The surprised and pleased 
preacher paused long enough to greet his little 
friend and arrange for him a seat. The deso- 
late lad was much comforted by the assurance 
that he had such a great and good friend as 
“Bro. Eb. ,; As he sat there with his gaze fixed 
upon the face of the preacher and drinking in 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 83 

his earnest words, he wondered if there could 
be a smarter man in all the world than “Pro. 
Eb.” And he listened to the sermon as he had 
never listened before. 

And he understood as he had never under- 
stood before. “Bro. Eb” was one of those 
plain, practical preachers, who could explain 
the truths of the Bible so that a child could 
understand them. He told of the love of Jesus 
and of his willingness to save. Then he showed 
that all accountable beings needed salvation. 
Sammy’s reflections when at the cave last, re- 
turned to him as the preacher declared that 
even the children needed to be converted. 
“Now, there’s Sammy plenty old enough to be 
converted and love and serve Jesus,” said the 
preacher. And Sammy could hardly refrain 
from responding: “And that’s jist what I 
want.” 

The preacher explained that all needed con- 
version so they could love Jesus, live right, die 
right and go home to heaven. Conversion, he 
said, made people right inside — right at heart 
— and without this, outside goodness was not 
enough. 


84 “SANG SAMMY”— A STORY 

Sammy felt at once that this was just what 
he needed. He had been feeling this way for 
two months. He felt that the preacher spoke 
the truth: He had been a good boy, yet he 
felt that there was something wrong inside — 
he just couldn’t make himself love Jesus, and 
he had tried so hard to do so. He listened and 
heard the preacher saying : 

You cannot make yourself a Christian, 
neither can your best friends — Jesus alone can 
do that ! And when you come to Him humbly, 
sincerely, prayerfully and trustingly, He will 
save. Cast yourself on His mercy, and He will 
save you now ! Refuse to yield and run away 
from Him, and you are lost!” 

It was an old-time revival meeting. The 
people listened attentively. Christians prayed 
while the preacher exhorted sinners. An ‘‘in- 
vitation song” was started by the “singin’ 
teacher” and all joined in and sang as only 
mountain people can sing. The missionary 
exhorted penitent ones to come forward to the 
altar of prayer — the “mourner’s bench” the 
mountain people called it. 

A young man in the aisle came forward 
weeping, and bowed at the designated bench, 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 85 

and a happy mother in the “amen corner 1 ’ 
raised a shout of joy as she saw her prayers 
being answered. Others came — men, women 
and children — from all parts of the house, and 
bowed with the young man who first came. 
The singing increased in fevor. Christians 
went into the congregation, exhorting friends 
to turn to the Lord. Others advised, instructed 
and prayed with the penitents. Soon it was a 
time of tumult. Some of the seekers began to 
rise their feet and, with shouts of joy, pro- 
fessed to be saved. Then there were hand- 
shakings, congratulations and rejoicings, par- 
ticipated in by all of the Christians. 

The coolest, calmest, most self-possessed 
person present was the missionary. “Bro. Eb” 
moved here and there, comforting the distressed, 
instructing the inquirer, and calming the agi- 
tated. He was an old rivival worker, and knew 
how to handle such meetings. 

Our little friend Sammy sat there, scarcely 
taking notice of what was transpiring around 
him. He was thinking too seriously, now, for 
that. His mother when dying had asked him 
to be a good boy and meet her in heaven. And 
“Bro. Eb” had said he couldn’t be good, or go 


86 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

to heaven unless converted. He was willing to 
seek the Lord if only he knew how, but every- 
thing seemed so dark. But something must be 
done. He arose, trembling from head to foot, 
and looked around pitifully as if appealing for 
help. “Bro. Eb” saw him and was by his side 
in a minute. 

“What is it you want, Sammy,” asked the 
man of God, gently and soothingly. 

“I want ’ligion — I must have ’ligion — help 
me, oh, help me, ‘Bro. Eb!’ cried the boy 
aloud. 

“We must go the Lord in prayer — He alone 
can help us, Sammy,” was the missionary’s 
reply, as he led the weeping boy to the mourn- 
er’s bench, where . he fell upon his knees. “Bro. 
Eb” knelt by the side of the earnest little 
seeker, and in a quiet and gentle manner in- 
structed the agitated child, telling him how to 
pray and how to trust the Lord for salvation. 

“Yo’ prayed fer my ma when she war dyin’, 
now pray fer me, ‘Bro. Eb,’ ” sobbed the heart- 
burdened boy. 

And the missionary did pray. He seemed 
to pour out his very soul in his petition for the 
salvation of the little seeker. The mountain 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 87 

people, to this day, talk of that prayer, and 
how it lifted them all heavenward. 

Sammy tried to pray, and tried to trust the 
Lord to save him. But it seemed to do no 
good. His mind remained dark and his heart 
heavy. Then came the thought that all of his 
praying for two months had done no good, and 
that he had just as well stop trying to become 
religious — that he had just as well go away 
from there. He half arose to his feet to go 
away, when he remembered “Bro. Eb” had said 
that those who ran away would be lost. 

“Lost!” The thought alarmed him, and 
he fell on his knees again and began to pray 
more earnestly than ever before in his life. 
“Bro. Eb” thought to assist him to a sent on 
a bench, but the little seeker put an arm around 
the rude bench and clung to it with the feeling 
that there he would stay and pray with all his 
heart until saved or until dead ! 

The surroundings were forgotten. The sing- 
ing, the shouting, the praying, were unheeded. 
He was desperately in earnest now. The peo- 
ple crowded around the praying boy. The mis- 
sionary’s face beamed as he shook hands with 
the circle of happy Christians. He knew the 


88 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

crisis in the battle had come, and he foresaw 
victory for bis little friend. Kneeling by 
Sammy’s side “Bro. Eb” exclaimed in thrilling 
tones : 

* 4 Sammy 1 Sammy 1 you have done all that 
you can do — stop trying to save yourself 1 Let 
Jesus save youl You are not afraid to trust 
your Savior — the Savior of your precious 
mother who is over in the promised land — are 
you?” 

As these burning words fell from the lips of 
the missionary, the singing had ceased and the 
people listened. But the leader of the singing 
started at once the good, olS revival song : 

“I have a mother in the promised land, 

I have a mother in the promised land. 

My mother calls, and I mast go, 

To meet her in the promised land.” 

The intensely excited throng caught up the 
refrain and sang it with all of the religious 
ferver and enthusiasm characteristic of revival 
meetings among the mountain people. 

Sammy ceased struggling and praying, and 
listened eagerly to “Bro. Eb’s” exhortation. 
Then he raised his head and turning his back 
to the bench he looked upward as if in wonder, 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 89 

while the expression of anguish upon his coun- 
tenance began to give way to a radiance that 
told of heaven* born joy in the heart of the 
little boy ! The missionary gazed upon Sammy’s 
face with moistened eyes — he was reminded of 
the glorified appearance of the boy’s dying 
mother. 

Sammy was entranced. His heart-burdens 



Sammy Clapped His Hands. 


90 


“SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 


all rolled away ! His very being was thrilled 
with a new and holy emotion! As he gazed 
upwards he saw not the face of the happy mis- 
sionary looking down upon him — he seemed to 
be gazing into heaven itself ! He heard the 
happy Christians break out into the old tri- 
umphant song: 

“Shout! Shout! We’re gaining ground , 

Oh, glory hallelujah! 

For the love of God is pouring down, 

Oh, glory hallelujah \” 

But to Sammy it seemed to be the singing 
of angelic hosts ! 

Such a foretaste of heavenly delight was 
more than one poor, little boy could long 
endure. 

Clapping his hands together, Sammy sank 
to the floor as one dead L 


i 


OF 'MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 91 


CHAPTER VIII. 

SANG SAMMY CONVERTED. 

The missionary quickly .ifted Sammy from 
the floor and held him in his arms. 

The unexpected termination of Sammy’s 
“seeking,” greatly excited and alarmed the 
congregation, and there was a rush forward 
from all parts of the house. But “Bro. Eb” 
never lost his wits or his control of the crowd. 
He was too well experienced in revival work to 
be disturbed by such occurrances — he had seen 
them before. 

He called on the people to stmid back and 
give the swooned lad fresh air, and told them 
to not be alarmed. 

The sight of Sammy’s white face, closed 
eyes and limp form was enough to alarm them, 
but they trusted the missionary when he said : 

“Don’t be alarmed, friends. The boy is all 
right. The Lord is with him. He’ll soon have 
something good to tell us.” 


92 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

And “Bro. Eb” was right. Sammy gasped, 
opened his eyes and looked around a moment in 
wonder, then fixing his gaze on the face <*f the 
missionary, he threw his arms around that 
good man’s neck and burst into a loud, joyous 
laugh ! 

“Tell us how you feel now, Sammy,” asked 
the happy missionary. 

“I feel better n if I’d foun’ a ten acre patch 
o’ sang!” shouted Sammy. 

Then there was a mighty shout of victory 
in the camp ! 

“Sang Sammy’s converted!” 

The glad cry was taken up and passed on to 
all parts of the house and on the outside to 
the interested crowds there. 

Such a time of rejoicing was never witnessed 
before or sinoe in that old school house. For 
once “Bro. Eb” lost his control of a congrega- 
tion, and, in the language of the people, “The 
meetin’ just run itself.” 

The voice of the singing teacher was heard 
high above the tumult : 

“ 'Tis the old-time religion, 

’Tis the old-time religion, 

J Tis the old-time religion, 

And it's good enough for me !” 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 93 

And as the people sang they shook hands 
with Sammy and with each other. The enthu- 
siasm reached the culminating point when the 
closing verse was sung : 

“It was good enough for fathers, 

It was good enough for mothers, 

It is good enough for Sammy, 

And it's good enough for me!” 

“Bro. Eb,” finding himself once more able 
to control the meeting, commanded silence, 
and then asked Sammy if he felt like telling 
the people what the Lord had done for his soul. 

Every eye in the congregation was fixed upon 
the lad, and his response was waited with bated 
breath. The little convert made an effort or 
two to speak, and at last getting his voice he 
said : 

“I’m only a po’ ignorant boy an’ don’t 
know much ’bout ’ligion, nor nothin’ else. I 
’spose though I’ve got ’ligion, ’cause I feel right 
inside ! I feel jist like my ma looked when 
sh’ died — an’ I know she had ’ligion!”* 

“God bless the boy!” 

“His mother’s prayers are answered!” 

“Thank God the children can come!” 

“Sammy will preach, sure!” 


94 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

Amid such exclamations from the “amen 
corners,” Sammy stepped down from the 
bench where he had been standing while speak- 
ing. 

The missionary was too old a revival worker 
to let this occasion pass without improving it. 
He spoke to the irreligious, especially the young 
people of Sammy’s age, of his circumstances, 
his experience. Then again standing his little 
convert on the bench, he said: 

“Now, I want just as many of the irrelig- 
ious as are glad that Sammy is converted and 
who would like to have the same kind of re- 
ligion he’s got, to come forward and shake 
hands with him.” 

As if moved by a common impulse, there 
rose from many lips the old invitation hymn 
of the long ago : 

“Come, trembling sinner, in whose breast 
A thousand thoughts revolve, 

Come, with your guilt and fear oppressed, 

And make this last resolve.” 

For a moment the crowd hesitated, and then 
there was a rush from all parts of the room. 
It was a solemn scene, and yet a happy one to 
the Christians, as they saw their sons and 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 


95 


daughters pressing forward, many of them 
weeping. 

The meeting was brought to a close at last, 
although it was so “good to be there” that 
many of the people remained for some time to 
talk over the meeting and its glorious results. 

What a wonderful change in the circum- 
stances and experiences of poor little Sang 
Sammy, in so short a time ! He bad borne 
crushing 1 eart-burdens — these were all gone ! 
He had been so desolate and unhappy — now he 
was inexpressably happy ! He had been seem- 
ingly almost friendless — now he had a multi- 
tude of friends, but especially he had Jesus for 
a friend — one who would stick closer to him 
than a brother, or father either. 

And religion had wrought it all 1 

Sammy accompanied “Rro. Eb” to his 
lodging place. Here he was soon resting his 
weary body on one of those gigantic feather 
beds for which the mountain country is famous. 
It was a new experience for Sammy, but he en- 
joyed it. “Bro. Eb” tucked the covering 
around the boy, and then seated himself by the 
side of the bed. Sammy was weary, but he 
could not sleep — he had too many strange 


86 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

things to think of. Neither could the mission- 
ary forget the scenes and experiences of the 
day. Like Sammy, he had no desire for slum- 
ber. As 1 e sat gazing at the face of his young 
friend, he was pleased to see a pair of bright, 
blue eyes pop open, at the same time a little, 
chubby hand from under the covering slipped 
into his strong hand. 

‘ 4 Then for an h ur the missionary and his 
converted Sunday-school scholar sat there 
clasping hands and conversing. Sammy told 
of the sad experiences of the past two months 
and the tragic events of the day. When 
Sammy’s story was finished, “Bro. Eb” thanked 
God that he could be an humble helper of such 
needy souls. And in such experiences as this 
he felt repaid, a thousand times over, for all 
of his sacrifices and labors as a preacher of the 
gospel. 

Then there was a long conversation with 
reference to Sammy's future. This matter was 
finally settled by “Bro. Eb” exclaiming: 

“You will go home with me, Sammy, and 
be my boy. Fanny and I will be a father and 
mother to you.” 

And when assured that he would have op- 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 97 

portunity to often visit the old home, and the 
tomb of his mother, he was only too glad to 
agree to “Bro. Eb’s” proposition. 

Sammy drifted off into the land of dreams, 
still holding the hand of “Bro. Eb.” The 
faithful servant of God then sought well-earned 
rest, thankful for the glorious results of his 
day’s labors. 

Sammy was still happy in his new-found 
experiences when he awoke in the morning. He 
had many visitors during the early hours and 
he had to tell his ^experience” over and over 
again for the benefit of all these friends. 

“I jist want everybody to know it,” he said. 
And the missionary encouraged mm to talk so, 
knowing that Sammy was doing the most ef- 
fective preaching. 

“I wish I could tell her — do you ’spose she 
knows it?” Sammy was thinking of his 
mother. He was much comforted when u Bro. 
Eb” declared it as his belief that the sainted 
mother did know of her child's conversion. 

But Sammy thought perhaps she would 
more certainly know it if he paid a visit to the 
cave. Soon the happy boy and Sounder were 
bounding along the narrow paths toward the 


98 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

cliffs. The boy’s heart was lighter than it had 
been in many long weeks. The old dog, too, 
seemed to truly appreciate this approach to the 
old happy life, and leaped around his young 
master and made the forests ring with his joy- 
ous barkings. 

The top of the ridge had been surmounted, 
and Sammy was approaching the “rocky face” 
cliffs, beneath which was the cave. Just as 
he was parting the bushes to step out into the 
open space along the edge of the cliffs, he was 
startled, and the blood seemed to freeze in his 
veins, as his ears were saluted by a loud, agon- 
izing scream in childish tones, in the direction 
of the cliffs l 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 99 


CHAPTER IX. 

SAMMY TO THE RESCUE. 

Mr. Shaver, who lived in the fine old planta- 
tion residence in the great Kanawha Valley, had 
promised his family an outing when the horse 
chestnuts should be ripe, and he was not al- 
lowed to forget his promise. 

One bright morning a gay party composed 
of Mr. and Mrs. S. and daughters, Rose, Dot, 
Minnie and Ada, and the only boy of the 
family, Master Will, started for the mountains. 

The parents and girls rode in the light 
spring wagon, while Master Will, mounted on 
a pony, cantered along in front, acting as scout 
for the expedition. It was a merry party, de- 
termined on having a “good time,” whether 
any chestnuts were gathered or not. In mak- 
ing the ascent to the ridge road, all hands had 
to walk, the horses having all they could do to 
draw the empty wagon. But once at the top, 
the vehicle was loaded up again, and progress 


Lore. 


100 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

was made rapidly toward the famous grove of 
chestnuts — Sammy's old friends on the top of 
the “rocky-face” cliff. 

As the wagon came to a halt in the open 
space near the cliffs, the girls clapped their 
hands with glee as they gazed upon the beauti- 
ful surroundings. The horses were unhar- 
nessed and fastened to the bushes, and prepa- 
rations were made for a raid at once upon the 
chestnut trees. Will and little Ada, unobser- 
ved by the mother, ran over to the edge of the 
cliffs and were gathering beautiful fern leaves 
among the rocks. Ada in reaching for a leaf 
that lifted its head above the edge, stumbled, 
and with a scream of terror, disappeared over 
the cliffs 1 

In a moment the party was panic stricken, 
while scream after scream fell from the lips of 
the mother and sisters. 

“My God, my child is killed!” cried the 
father. 

“My child — my baby child!” wailed the 
half-fainting mother. 

Just then there was another startling oc- 
currence. Out of the bushes there sprang a 
lad, followed by a huge dog, and with wonder-; 
ful swiftness bounded towards the cliffs 1 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 101 

u Yo’ all bring a rope, quick!” shouted the 
strange boy. 

It was brave little Sammy to the rescue ! 

The appearance and words of Sammy recalled 
the father’s presence of mind and aroused him 
to action. Snatching the leathern check lines 
from off the harness, he too sprang toward the 
cliff. 

Sammy ran straight to the cliff and threw 
himself flat on the ground and peered over the 
edge into the depths below. Wise boy! He 
had often peered down this precipice and he 
knew the danger of attempting to look into 
those depths while standing erect. 

Our little hero was on his feet in a moment, 
and running to the point where the child had 
fallen over. Here he stopped and cried to the 
hastily approaching father. “Here’s the place, 
quick ! ” 

Then to the mother and half-crazed child- 
ren he cried: “Yo’ all stan’ back — don’t come 
close— yo’ all will fall over — we'uns will save 
the little gal if it kin be did.” 

As Sammy talked he worked. No need to 
explain his plans — the father read his determi- 
nation at a glance. Not another word was 


102 “SANG SAMMY” — A S TCEY 

spoken as Sammy tied the end of the thong 
around his body close up under his arms, while 
Mr. S. knotted the two lines together. 



down! down! 


Mr. S. braced his 
feet against a rock and 
grasped the lines, the 
mother and children 
also taking hold, being 
anxious to help in some 
way. 

“God be with you, 
little boy,” whispered 
the agonized father as 
Sammy slipped over 
the edge of the preci- 
pice. 

“He is with me,” 
came back our little 


hero’s response as he 
disappeared from view. 


Down ! down ! went the boy. Would the 
lines be long enough? The father’s heart was 
sinking as he noticed that but a few feet re- 
mained in his hands. But a shout of joy fell 
from his lips as the strain on the lines ceased 
and he knew that the boy had made a landing. 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 103 

Following the example of Sammy he threw 
himself on the rock and peered over the cliff. 
The watchers saw the color leave his face and 
his lips moved in silent prayer. 

Little Ada in falling had lodged in the top 
of some bushes growing in the crevice of the 
cliff, and was thrown back against the cliff 
where she had lodged on a jutting rock, to 
which she was clinging. Sammy had landed 
on the rock and Mr. S. watched him as he 
quickly untied the lines and fastened them 
around the body of the child. Then looking 
up at the agonized watcher he gave a signal 
which was quickly understood. 

Mrs. S. and children pulled steadily on the 
lines while the prostrate father prevented the 
jagged edges of the rocks from cutting the 
thongs. He was also ready to grasp the res- 
cued child when she came within reach and lift 
her out of danger. 

And what a shout of joy was heard on those 
cliffs when the happy father placed the child 
in the mother’s arms, not much worse .for the 
adventure. The mother wept for joy and the 
girls danced around, almost beside themselves, 
with joy. The father’s voice trembled with 
emotion as' b he exclaimed: 


104 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

“Thank God! Thank God!” 

While Mr. S. rejoiced he also worked. He 
hadn’t forgotten brave little little Sammy on 
the rocks below. Untying the lines he swung 
them over the cliffs exclaiming gleefully: 

“That was a good job, Will, now let us 
finish it ! 1 7 

Dropping on his knees he again peered over 
the precipice and then staggered to his feet, 
gasping as for breath, his face deadly white! 

“What’s the matter, papal” cried the girls 
as they ran to their father in alarm. Rallying 
with an effort, he whispered hoarsely: 

“My God, that noble boy has fallen!” 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 105 


CHAPTER X. 

HEAVEN— HOME— MOTHER. 

For a moment the group stood horror- 
stricken. Mr. S, was first to rally and shouted : 

“To the foot of the cliffs — find a path, 
quick — there must be one ! ” • 

“This way father,” called Will, as he 
dashed off toward the left. The quick-witted 
boy had noticed that when the boy went over 
the cliffs his dog seemed almost frantic in his 
desire to follow. Then he saw the animal run 
off to the left and disappear among the rocks, 
and Will concluded that the dog was ac- 
quainted with the locality and had gone to a 
place where he could descend the cliffs. 

Sure enough, a run of a few rods brought 
them to a water- worn crevice. It was doubt- 
less by that Sammy intended to reach the cave. 
Without much difficulty a descent was quickly 
made to the foot of the cliffs. Minnie re- 
mained to care for Ada who was rapidly recov- 
ering from the fright and shock occasioned by 



106 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

her fall. The rest of the party hurried on in 
the search of Sammy. 

Soon they stood at the mouth of the big 
cavern, and there upon the rocks lay the 
crushed form of our little hero ! And by the 
side of the unconscious lad sat poor old Soun- 
der, whining pitifully as he looked upon the 
death-stricken features of his young master. 

Doubtless poor little heroic Sammy had be- 
come dizzy while perched upon the rock and 
fallen to his death. 

Mr. S. looked down upon the strange lad — 
the savior 3f his -child — and gave way to a 
passionate outburst of weeping and lamenta- 
tions. The entire party was crying over the 
dying boy as if he had been torn from their 
own family circle. 

The parents knelt beside Sammy and the 
sympathetic woman laid a gentle hand on the 
brow of the dying child. Sammy smiled and 
whispered faintly: 

“That’s my ma’s hand!” 

“Yes, my boy, only get well and I will be a 
mother to you, and you shall be my own dear 
child,” whispered the weeping woman. 


OF MOUKTA]N PEOPLE. 


107 



HE QUI0KLY RAISED HIMSELF ON HIS ELBOW. 



108 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

The words seemed to touch the conscious- 
ness of the dying boy. He quickly raised him- 
self on his elbow and glanced around as if in 
wonder. Seeing Sounder close by his side he 
put an arm around the old dog’s neck and 
drew him closer to his side. Then looking up 
at Will he said in a weak, quivering voice: 

“When I’m gone yo’ take poor ol’ Sounder 
fo’ yo’ own dog, won't yo’? He’s a good dog 
an’ I want yo’ to take him an’ be good to him 
— yo’l do it fer my sake, won’t ye?” 

Will managed to tell Sammy that he would 
always be a good friend of Sounder’s, and the 
dying boy seemed greatly relieved in mind. 

“Did we all save the little gal?” asked 
Sammy anxiously, and looked pleased when 
told that little Ada was safe. 

Suddenly Sammy startled the mourners 
who stood around him by exclaiming: 

“See that box in thar? That’s my ma’s 
coffin! We’all put her in thar two months 
ago, an’ I tol’ Bro. Eb then I’d f oiler soon. 
An’ tli’ Lo’d let me live to git converted 
and git ’ligion an’ now He's calling me an’ I’se 
glad to go! Tell Bro. Eb goodbye- fer me! 
Tell him he won’t have to have to give me no 
home now, cause Jesus gives me a home up 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. 109 

yonder in Heaven with my ma! Tell him I 
died happy like my ma! Tell him” — 

His head fell back in the weeping woman’s 
lap and the watchers thought him dead. Again 
the motherly hand tenderly stroked back the 
tangled locks from the little sun-browned 
brow, and again the loving touch seemed to 
stay the march of that mortal life to eternity. 
Sammy looked up and smiled sweetly. He 
was living over again the experiences of the re- 
vival meeting, and his soul was ravished with 
heavenly delights. Then his incoherent words 
showed that he again stood beside his dying 
mother, and he seemed to drink in of the spirit 
that animated her soul, and the watchers saw 
with awe, his countenance begin to glow with 
an unearthly brightness. 

“Our little friend is dead now,” sobbed 
Mr. S. as he laid the little chubby hands 
across the little breast that would never know 
sorrow again. 

But Sammy’s spirit still clung to the man- 
gled body as if loth to leave it. To the aston- 
ishment of the weeping watchers, those blood 
less lips began to move, and by bending low a 
whispered song was heard ! Stronger, louder 
and sweeter grew the voice of the dying singer ! 



110 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

That was a musical family gathered there, but 
never before had they heard such singing. It 
was sweet as the voice of an angel ! 

Like his mother, Sammy was singing his 
own death-song. And the song was the same. 
It was a heart-breaking scene. Old Sounder 
crept close to the dying boy and one of the lit- 
tle boy’s hands , as if unconsciously, was laid 
on the old dog’s head. Boy and dog had 
been such inseparable companions in life that 
it was hard for even death to separate them. 

Fainter and fainter became the voice of the 
glorified singer. It was only by stooping low 
that the listeners heard the last verse : 

“Filled with delight my raptured soul, 

Would here no longer stay ; 

Though Jordan's waves around me roll. 
Fearless I'd launch away.” 

There was a painful silence. The sorrow- 
ful watchers drew back from the still form. 
With difficulty 7 Will led the puzzled and troub- 
led dog away. Loving hands clasped those 
fearless blue eyes that would never be tear- 
stained again. 

Poor little Sang Sammy was dead ! 

To save life he had sacrificed his own life! 


OF MOUNTAIN PEOPLE. Ill 

He had gone from a cabin to a mansion in 
the skies ! 

He was a student now in the Universities 
of Heaven —he would be ignorant no longer. 

Doubtless nestled once more by the side 
of his mother they will sing together again — 
but it will not be the death songs of earth, but 
the songs of eternal life 1 

Heaven — Home — Mother ! 

Wonderful transition ! 

And the religion of the Bible had wrought 
it all. 

And as poor, ignorant, friendless, homeless 
Sang Sammy could be converted, learn to 
love Jesus, die gloriously happy and go 
home to heaven, so can all boys and girls. 


The funeral services were held on the rocks 
in front of the cave, where Sammy died. All 
of the mountain people thereabout were there, 
sincere mourners. But those, who took the 
place of relatives was the family of Mr. Shaver ; 
“Brother Eb” conducted the sad rites. Mr. 
S. proposed to furnish a fine coffin in which to 
bury the bruised remains of sainted little Sam- 
my, but “Bro. Eb” said they must be put 


112 “SANG SAMMY” — A STORY 

away just as Sammy had requested. An old 
fashioned coffin was made like the one in which 
the mother was buried. The box was borne in- 
to the cave and placed beside the one already 
there. The benediction was pronounced, when 
Bro. Eb took from his pocket a piece of 
charcoal and wrote on top of the box, and then 
hurried out of the cave weeping. One by one 
the mourners filed past the coffin and glanced 
at the writing, and read in rude letters, 

“SANG SAMMY.” 
















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